"Vegetables With Issues..." The market square was located near the where the land sloped downward towards the ocean at a somewhat abrupt angle. Not far beyond the dozens of small stalls set up by merchants were the docks, visible mainly due to the tall masts of the sailing vessels that went out daily to harvest fish from the sea, and above the noise of venders attempting to harvest credits from tourists, the sound of an approaching plane could be heard. "I can't believe that thing still flies," sighed Miranda, shielding her eyes from the pale yellow orb of the sun and trying to make out the logo on the side of the plane as it tipped from side to side in its all too fast descent. "It must be older than Joshua," chuckled Misty as the plane circled overhead, its propeller smoking dangerously as it prepared to make a water landing on pontoons that didn't seem seaworthy. "Not much else is," agreed Miranda with equal mirth as a group of people ran by with fire extinguishers, heading down the long slope to the pier, "Still, it's the fastest way to get anything to Porta Vista, I suppose." "I've been there," her lover commented, suddenly very interested in the little candy skulls one of the venders was selling, "Nice place so long as you avoid the reef." "So it is true then?" "The giant tentacruel? Yup. It's true," Misty chuckled as Miranda got the salesman's attention and paid for a handful of the bizarre candies. "Hm. Strawberry," she commented, popping one into her mouth and offering a few to Misty, "Anyway, I guess it's true what my aunt was saying last Halloween. Apparently the Earth's ambient mana level's gone up 3% over the last five years or so. It's supposed to cause all sorts of bizarre things to happen if it keeps up, and I guess giant octopi would count." "Err, pass," said Misty, cringing a little at the thought of actually having to eat one of the multi-coloured, little grinning skulls, "But hey, since when do Lav'Brats think something's strange?" Miranda glanced at the top few floors of the Tower, visible as a dark looming shape just over the low rooftops of the ramshackle buildings that all but cluttered the street. "Okay I admit it," she conceded with a wry grin, ignoring the peculiar red glow in one of the Tower's distant windows, "I'm a hypocrite. But hey, I'm used to ghosts and dragons, and living next to a forest that people don't go into at night. Gigantic tentacled monstrosities from the deep are your department, dear." "Hey!" laughed Misty as they navigated the maze of stalls, finally coming to the area where the farmers sold their goods, "Lavender's closer to the ocean than Cerulean City is. And I'll have you know that he's the only real sea monster I've ever encountered." "Just teasing, dear," assured Miranda, her tone thoughtful, "But as long as we're on the topic, there's something I should really ask you in advance..." The water-trainer took pause as she caught the pensive tone to Miranda's voice. "Ask away, dear," said Misty, her tone going serious as they moved closer together to allow an old woman with a whicker basket full of squawking birds pass them on the narrow street with its light purple cobblestones. "Well, it's about tomorrow night..." Miranda replied nervously yet willing herself to hold her lover's gaze, "As I said, tonight Aunt Laurna's doing that whole 'History Of Lavender' thing for the kids, but tomorrow she's doing a more serious one for the adults. Now I know you don't like ghosts, so I'm not going to ask you to accompany me, but I really enjoy the show she and Viper put on and all, so-" "Shh," chuckled Misty, placing her index finger over Miranda's lips, amused by the nervous tone in lover's voice, "You worry too much. Look when we first met, you told me that the League badges you have are just trinkets, pretty souvenirs of your travels. You've no intention on challenging the League, yet you've followed me to what...? Three gyms so far?" "Four if you count Cerulean," added Miranda with a bit of a smirk, sliding her arms around Misty's waist. "Okay," the trainer agreed, returning the embrace, "Four. That's pretty good for Miss 'I don't take this seriously the way some people do'. So basically, you've done this all for me. And, well, I think it's my turn to do something that's just for you. You want to go to the thing tomorrow night, then I'm coming too. You'd just better promise me that you'll hold my hand the entire time!" Miranda sighed heavily, half wondering how many times it was possible to fall in love with the same person. "Well then," she promised melodramatically, "on that night, the only force upon this Earth that could possibly hope pry my hand from yours would be your telling me to let go." Misty sighed contentedly, half wondering how she survived so many unpleasant years without Miranda's kind words. "You spoil me," she replied, smiling as Miranda's arms held her a little closer. "I'm just retuning a favor to a friend," the courier replied reminiscently, "To make certain that all those I hold dear don't suffer from low self-esteem." "That's an interesting promise. But I think I can live with it," said Misty before adding teasingly, "So? Is there a story behind that? Or did you loose a bet?" "'I only gamble with my life'," Miranda quoted with a nervous laugh, "But no, seriously, the first time I was in Celadon City, and I had a delivery to the gym there. And back then, I wasn't quite the person I am now, but Erika helped me out a bit. A couple of her students even managed to get the tangles out of my hair..." "Really?!" inquired Misty with a tone of false astonishment as she pushed Miranda back a bit before staring up at her mock amazement, "Wow... They must have had carpel tunnel syndrome for weeks afterwards!" "Hey!" laughed Miranda, pulling a lock of her dark hair down between her eyes and staring at it, "It's not that bad is it?" "I know," her lover chuckled, reaching up with both hands to ruffle the courier's hair, which had a life of its own on a good day, "Just making sure you don't get too conceited with all that self-esteem you picked up before you met me." "Hm, I think your right," Miranda replied in mock worry, at last turning to see which vender had the best prices on the ingredients they needed to pick up, "With someone as wonderful as you in my life, I'll probably be an ego-maniac by the time I'm twenty-five!" "No... I think one of those in my life is quite enough," laughed Misty, taking Miranda's hand, as much for comfort as to not get separated. Her lover nodded in agreement, deciding that it was better to not have that conversation due to an old Lavender Town superstition. "To speak the name is to invoke the power." "So do you think these tomatoes look angsty enough?" she asked instead, picking up one from a large display of varied produce, "Or is simply sullen and morose?" "Actually, I think that they're just kinda depressed," the merchant commented with a bored shrug, accepting the handful of plastic credit coins Miranda handed him without further comment. "I keep forgetting this is Lavender Town," replied Misty as they walked away and headed directly towards the stall that held stacks of small wooden cages containing a few dozen clucking mundane chickens, "People just accept weird stuff, don't they?" Miranda nodded. "You either learn to ignore it or like it," she replied in a tone that was both happy and sad, "Sure, some people leave and never look back once they're done school, but most of us Lav'Brats never completely leave home." An old woman with one milky white eye glanced up at them and smiled with a toothless grin as they approached. "Bob's making something special, I hear, eh," she cackled, setting down the enormously long, multicoloured scarf she was knitting as she spoke. "Yes, ma'am," replied Miranda with a nod, "we're just getting a few things for him." The old woman glanced at the two of them and chuckled as she indicated a small stack of sturdy, yet mismatched egg cartons imported from elsewhere. "Well, just be sure to return the container when you're done," she said simply, without asking for payment, "Those aren't easy to come by, ya know!" "I'll be sure to bring you a few next time I'm through here," said Miranda in amusement as she chose a carton of twelve brown eggs, "And thanks!" "If I'm alive to see you again!" the old woman laughed, going back to her project as the stepped back into the flow of people. "One of your relatives?" inquired Misty once they were out of earshot. Miranda shook her head. "Nope, she's just the owner of that farm we saw on the way into town," the courier explained, standing on her toes in an attempt to find their third and final destination, "She was probably at the Council meeting with Mom this morning..." Miranda's words trailed off for a moment as a sudden thought struck her. "Hey, I wonder if Uncle Frank's transfer makes him Lavender's highest ranking Pokeforce officer?" she mused, recalling that the town's previous police chief was planning on retiring. "Gee, I guess he'll have to change his name to Jenny," commented Misty, receiving an amused yet alarmed look from Miranda. "You know we don't actually have one of 'those'." "No? Really?" "Never did," replied Miranda with a noncommittal shrug, "I guess there's only so many to go around or something. And Lavender's so small; that the most we've ever had was three cops. Wow, if he is the highest ranking of the three, that means he has a seat on the Council... Poor mom!" "Poor Lavender Town," added Misty with a chuckle as they found a booth that sold large burlap sacks of flour, "It'll never be the same." Miranda nodded in agreement, smiling reminiscently as she handed her lover her burden and hefted a bag of flour onto her shoulder after purchasing it. "Well, he's from here so I don't think he'd do anything really bad," the courier said thoughtfully, "Besides, if he tries anything funny the rest of the Council can just out vote him. Or if he really does something stupid, say like NOT marry my Aunt Laurna, I'm sure that between her and my mom they can convince the rest of the Council to vote him out of town." "You're not going to let him live that down, are you?" "Not a chance," said Miranda in a serious tone as they headed for home, "it took them forever to admit they liked each other in the first place, and then when she finally has to propose to HIM, he panics and leaves town!" "After meeting your mom, I'm actually surprised that he came back," Misty added. "I'm surprised he's allowed back in the house," agreed Miranda, finding it hard to stay mad at her favorite 'almost' uncle, despite his faults, "But I suppose Aunt Laurna had a hand in that. I mean, if it wasn't for him, she'd probably be one of those strange old women who lives alone in a big house full of meowths!" Her lover cringed at the thought before adding, "Well, he does have a way of getting other people caught up in his craziness." Miranda nodded in amusement. "Yeah, so I can't fault him for that," she explained, "My dad helped my mom, and Frank helped Laurna. In a way I suppose it worked out reasonably well." "And you've helped me," added Misty as the crowds began to thin once they reached the main street, "And now I'm helping you. Must be a Lavender Town tradition or something." "I can deal with that," commented Miranda, setting down the burlap sack and rubbing her shoulder, "But carrying this thing another four blocks, I can't." "Want some help?" "That's the idea," Miranda replied, snapping her fingers dramatically as she flicked her wrist, somehow causing a small gray and black ball to appear in the palm of her hand, "I just hope he can contain his excitement..." Misty took a step back as the ball expanded in the courier's hand and immediately popped open. For some reason, however, the ball didn't activate as it should have, instead the pokemon inside rose up from the interior as a dark fog that congealed to form Wraith. "Haaa!" laughed the haunter in happy excitement, flinging his hands wide as he turned to face the Tower. "Not so fast, mister!" came Miranda's stern maternal tone, "You can play with your friends after, right now you're the only one here with telekinesis, so I need your help. Okay?" Wraith turned to his trainer with a sad look, inflating the lower half of his face to resemble a hugely pouting lip, but only succeeding in making the woman laugh. "Terr..." he agreed as Miranda lifted the heavy sack again and the ghost lightened the load with a small portion of his mental might. "That's better," commented Miranda, smiling happily at the haunter, "Thanks Wraith." The haunter grinned toothily as Misty gave him a thoughtful look. "Do you suppose he was a psychic type when he was alive?" she pondered, trying not to react as Wraith popped out one eye and began playing with it like some kind of morbid yo-yo. "There's no way of knowing, really," Miranda replied, smiling inwardly as a tourist dragged her child across the street by the arm, all the while the little boy kicked and flailed in an attempt to run over and "pet the ghost", "Although that's where the smart money is, I suppose. But don't ask me where his machine affinity came from, though." "Everyone needs a hobby," Misty chuckled as Wraith glanced at the little boy and exclaimed something in pokespeak that made the mother scream and the boy laugh, "What'd he say?" Miranda shrugged. "Oh, something about 'Swallow your soul, swallow your soul.'" "Again? He really needs a new catch phrase." "You bet...!" *** Bob ran out the kitchen the instant he heard the front door swing open, a huge mixing bowl tucked under one arm as he frantically stirred the contents. "Miranda!" he exclaimed in a rapid tone as the silhouette of his stepdaughter appeared in the doorway, "You guys are just in time! I really need to get started on supper, and I still have all these cookies to make to hand out to the kids in a couple of days, and I-! Ah! Miranda Lilcamp, please tell me that's YOUR haunter!" "Um, yeah," Miranda replied quizzically as the door to her mother's office swung open automatically and Vivian rolled out into the hall to see what the fuss was about, "His name's Wraith. I thought you'd met him?" "That was a year ago, dear," corrected Vivian with a partially amused smirk as she caught Wraith's eye, "Back when he was a gastly." The ghost tried his best to grin innocently as he floated off the sack of flour and moved closer. "How to see that you've evolved," said Vivian in a dry tone as the haunter neared, the fingers of his three fingered hands flexing as he chuckled to himself. "Um, what's he doing?" stammered Bob, making sure not to turn his back to the ghost. "He's going to spend the rest of All Hallows Eve in a pokeball is what he's doing," his wife replied in a calm, yet authoritative tone as the haunter's disembodied hands floated towards her bosom, still clenching and unclenching. "That's enough, Wraith," warned Miranda, causing the pokemon to stop and turn back to her with a sad look, "Mom already knows you have hands, and she doesn't need you to embarrass her to prove it." Misty couldn't help but laugh as the ghost made a long face. Literally. And floated back to Miranda, who scratched him atop the head until his smile returned. "Now look, Wraith," his trainer told him, her maternal tone making her sound a bit like her mother, only less uncompromising, "You were a big help in getting the groceries home, so why don't you go off and play with your friends for now. Just be back by morning, I don't want some tourist trying to catch you!" The haunter's hands clasped together in delight as a wide grin spread across his dark face and his eyes seemed to vibrate as though they were loose in their sockets, "Haunt?" he inquired hopefully, moving so close to Miranda's face that she could see the vague swirling of the dark ephemera that comprised Wraith. "Really, I-!" the courier assured, only to be cut off guard as Wraith's hands slapped down over her ears as the haunter moved so far forward that he phased partway through Miranda's head. This was followed by a strange parody of what was intended to be a sarcastic kissing sound and Wraith flying up through the ceiling, leaving Miranda's face covered in a nearly transparent green film of sticky ectoplasm. "Be sure to clean up before dinner, dear," commented Vivian in a neutral tone as her daughter breathed through her mouth and set down her burden before wiping the goo from her eyes, and wheeled back into her office. "Remind me to avoid catching a ghost," giggled Misty, taking the towel Bob offered and using it to help clean the ectoplasm off Miranda's face. "It's a little late for me, I'm afraid," commented Miranda, smiling despite her situation as Bob looked on worriedly. "Are you sure that stuff's safe?" he inquired, shaking his head in dismay as Miranda tried to remove the goop from her hair, "I mean, it doesn't look very pleasant." "Oh it's fine," his stepdaughter assured him, handing back the towel, "What a quick shower won't take care of'll dissolve on its own in an hour or so." Bob sighed in dismay as he led them into the kitchen to relieve the two of their burdens. "Well, I guess that's okay for you then," he said thoughtfully, "You tow have a few hours to waste, but I, unfortunately, don't. "So clear out while the master chef creates his masterpiece?" inquired Miranda little sarcastically, causing Bob to grin, nodding in agreement, "Okay, we can take a hint. We'll be upstairs if you need us." "Alright," called Bob as the two headed down the hall and up the thinly carpeted staircase, "I'll give you a shout when the other guests arrive!" "You know," commented Misty, observing the pictures that lined the wall of the steep incline, "Those two don't seem that much alike. But it's good to see they can get along in their own way." "Mom's just stressed out," said Miranda with a shrug, as they reached the landing and she lead them to her bedroom, "It's like this every year. I wouldn't worry too much about it. Ah, here we are." "I suppose," her lover pondered as Miranda swung the dark wooden door inward and rushed inside to open the window, "But it's a shame you two don't get along better." Miranda took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she leaned against the windowsill, enjoying the breeze that cleared out the stale air. "We've never really 'talked'," she confessed as Misty swung the door closed with the back of her foot, "Mom's not exactly approachable, so it was always my dad I spoke to about my problems and my thoughts in general. Don't worry, dear, we DO actually get along." Misty nodded, feeling a tinge of envy as she noticed that Miranda's room was at least three times the size of the one she had back in Cerulean, and sat heavily upon the equally enviable bed. "You don't, you don't blame her do you?" she inquired, glancing at the little table in the far corner that held a large picture of Miranda's father, surrounded by mostly burnt out candles with a few scraps of mostly burned paper half lodged in the melted wax that threatened to reach the floor. "Who? My mom?" Miranda inquired, walking over and sitting next to her lover and looking up at their mutual reflection in the large mirror across from her, "Whatever for?" "For surviving, I guess," Misty replied with a shrug, her fingers intertwining with Miranda's, "I dunno, it's a stupid question, sorry." "No, it's reasonable," replied the courier, her voice sounding heavy as she fell back onto her bed and stared up at the swirls in the plaster above their heads, "But no, I don't. I suppose once I did, back when I was nine or ten. And for a while I guess that I resented Uncle Frank and Aunt Laurna for not getting there in time, but we all do stupid things we regret later when we're children. Did you blame anyone when your parents died?" "No, not exactly," Misty replied, flopping down beside her and finding the large bed to be even more comfortable than the one she'd received as a gift that Summer, "The wreck of the ship was never found, so there's no evidence other than the storm that sprang up shortly before it vanished... Say, what's this?" Misty glanced over at the nightstand and reached out for the little leather bound book she found there, causing Miranda's eyes to widen. "I, uh, wouldn't read that," the courier warned a little nervously as Misty read the title. "The Seven Year Diary of Miranda Lydia Lilcamp," read the fancy silvery script across the black cover. "Why not?" Misty teased, turning her head to face Miranda's sullen expression even as her right hand kept the little book of secrets suspended in the air, "I never got to keep one, not with MY siblings, so I'd like to see what a real diary looks like." Miranda searched her lover's eyes for a moment. "You can read my father's if we ever get the key," she confided, "But I'm afraid of what you'll think of my if I let you read mine." "I- I'm sorry," whispered Misty sadly, her arm dropping down heavily upon the bed, "I shouldn't have-" "No, it's alright, dear," Miranda assured her with a weak smile, the courier's hand moving to run gentle fingers across her lover's face, "It's just that there are things I've done in my life that I'm not particularly proud of. You see, before I left home, I had one other serious relationship. I know that I've mentioned it before, but that book has all the details. All my silly thoughts, and all the dreams I thought were about to come true. "I was so young and foolish, and he was only interested in inheriting a piece of my family's business. That moron actually believed we had a hoards of credits stashed away somewhere, never realizing just how much time, effort and resources go into making this company work as well as it does. And there was me, ready to believe anything, ready to do anything, all because I thought I was in love... In love with someone incapable of loving me back..." Misty rolled onto her side, her eyes filling with hot tears as she watched Miranda for a moment, her lover simply staring at the ceiling forlornly. "I understand, Miri," she whispered, moving to lay her head upon the courier's chest and hold her as best she could, "I know what it's like to love someone and receive nothing in return. I know what it's like to make all kinds of plans for the future in my head, only to one day wake up and realize I'm just an accessory. Nothing better than a piece of furniture..." Miranda's arms went around her, and Misty could feel her lover's reassuring fingers moving slowly through her hair. "I-I'm sorry if I'm butting in on your bad memories," she said softly, almost feeling the small smile that crept across the courier's lips, "I hope you don't think that's selfish." "With all the joy and happiness you exude, how can I deny you a little misery?" she chuckled, leaning up to kiss Misty on the forehead, "But look, if you want to read it, you can. Just please know that the Miranda Lilcamp who wrote those words isn't the Miranda Lilcamp you know today." "No, I'd disagree," Misty replied, leaning up to look into Miranda's eyes as she spoke, "I'd say you're the same Miri. Just one who's had to grow up a lot faster than she wanted to, that's all." "'Never grow up anymore than you absolutely have to,'" Miranda quoted as Misty kissed her softly. "That's what you're Aunt Laurna says," Misty chuckled, kissing her again, and noticing the peculiar scent in her lover's hair for the first time. "It's the ectoplasm," Miranda replied with a shrug, easily reading the trainer's expression, "You can tell how bad a ghost is by the scent apparently." "Wraith's smells a little like garlic," commented Misty, taking a bundle of Miranda's hair and holding it against her nose as she inhaled. "That's probably Bob's cooking downstairs," commented Miranda with a quiet giggle, hating the way the old house seemed so soundproof, yet so unsmellproof, "He's superstitious, you know." "Poor guy, living here," agreed Misty with an amused smile, "But I'm sure that Lavender'll fully assimilate him one day!" "I hope so," Miranda agreed, wiping a tear from her eye and taking off her glasses, "He's only been living here for the last six years. But I guess it just takes some people longer to accept things like ghosts and monsters under the bed, and the true horror of my cooking..." "Hey, I'm getting used to Wraith," replied Misty in an amused defensive tone before her mind reacted fully to Miranda's words, "Monsters under the bed? You're kidding right?" Miranda nodded, unable to keep from laughing. "That's what we tell tourists," she explained, "A few years back one of the fishermen got fined for selling 'Monster Under The Bed Repellant' on Halloween." "Did it work?" Miranda laughed. "You don't see any monsters, do you? But actually, a couple of gastlies did show up in one case. Apparently it was just out of spite, though." Misty laughed, half wondering what did lurk under people's beds in Lavender Town besides dust bunnies. "Anyway," continued Miranda, glancing at her watch, "I think it might be a good idea to get cleaned up while we still have time. I can't promise a bathtub on a raised dais, though." "Does it at least have those little clawed feat?" Misty inquired, feeling a bit silly. "You bet," her lover assured with equal levity. "Oooh!" replied Misty in a teasingly sensuous tone, "I'm sooo there...!" *** Vivian ended the vid-phone conversation with the irate customer and closed the window on her computer before leaning back and rubbing her wary eyes. "Cheapskate," she muttered to herself, "oh well, he'll be sorry come Winter when caravan prices jump 20 percent." With a wary sigh, the president and co-owner of the Lilcamp Trading Company put the annoying little man out of her mind and began searching her computer's hard drive for a familiar directory. A moment later, Vivian had accessed her computerized photo album. It held pictures of her daughter when she was younger, and had pictures of her and Nicholas from as far back as their first week in Lavender Town. The photo that Vivian stopped on, however, was a picture of Frank and her sister Laurna, standing with their arms around each other near the bridge to Maiden's Peak. It took Vivian a moment to recall the day it was taken, but she was sure it had been her husband who'd done it. It was the same week that Nicholas had died, and it was two weeks before Frank had run off into the night, not to be seen again for so long that Vivian's anger at him for leaving her sister had actually had time to fade. "Why did you leave her?" the woman muttered rhetorically to the picture of a younger Frank, "She loved you, and she needed you, and you just took off..." Vivian leaned forward, examining the look in her sibling's eyes. The softness to their magenta hue spoke of the woman's complete willingness to love Frank. And the way that Laurna had once hung on Frank's every word, been enraptured by his every passing thought, and laughed at all his dumb jokes made Vivian wonder what had happened to the overly shy, half-scared most of the time little sister she and Nicholas had brought here from Neon town. She laughed a little, a quiet sound she seldom let others hear, for it was a sad laughter. "How do you do it, little one?" Vivian asked the picture of her sister, thinking momentarily of how Laurna and Frank had managed to patch things up so quickly, even after his decade's long absence, "What power do you have to just give yourself over to someone so completely...?" Vivian took a deep breath, and covered her nose and mouth to muffle the sound she made. For a moment, Vivian felt as though she were going to cry, but her tears had been suspiciously absent since the death of her first husband. "How do you do it?" she asked again, regretting her inability to completely open up to those she loved the way so many other people in her life could. The way her first love and husband always did, and the way their daughter could when she put her mind to it. "Am I really that empty inside?" pondered Vivian, finding that the solace she'd hoped to find in the old pictures was a fleeting one. "'Be happy, my love...'" she quoted sadly, a feeling of guilt creeping into her as Vivian realized just how little she really connected with Nicholas. Even when he'd poured out his heart and soul for her, she'd always been guarded, even when she said she loved him, it always felt strange to say the words. "Very well then, my love," whispered Vivian, hearing the pipes in the walls jump as hot water was forced through them, "I shall start with our daughter. If nothing else, from now on, I endeavor to be a better mother..."
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